A/N Oh hello, esteemed fanficees. I've been working on this on and off as a kind of warmup/cooldown piece in between writing TWOSB. Something where I don't have to be too embroiled in plot and character and mess and argh. The story reached its own sort of conclusion the other day, and I decided I may as well post it for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!
NOTE: This serves as a follow up from TWOSB, but can be read just as well on its own. I'm pretty sure TWOSB is only even referenced once or twice, the connection is more in my mind than anything XD
Warning: Slash, swearing, sexual references.
Disclaimer: I don't own characters or situations. I'm not JK Rowling. I'm not making any money off this, please don't sue me.
Dedication: I'm actually posting this on my anniversary, so who could I possibly dedicate this to but the love of my life? Hannah, the most wonderful, funny, loving and lovable person in the world. One year (and eleven months) of the most brilliant happiness I have ever known. The world is beautiful, simply because you are in it.
Bold Italics=Sirius
Regular Italics=Remus
Letters From A Convict
Dear Moony
No wait, maybe I titled that wrong.
I'll try again, hang on.
Dear Professor R.J. Lupin
There we go, that's the one.
So, hi!
If you can't tell who this is from (Really, you should be able to... you could always forge my handwriting beautifully.) it's Padders... people used to call me Padders for short, didn't they? I still keep having these weird flashes of memory. Being in a place like that takes so much away, and all the little things are still trickling back.
So. It's been thirteen years. Hard to believe. What have you been up to, Mr. Big Shot Professor Lupin? Always knew you were going places, eh. Kinda thought I'd be going them with you though, rather than sitting in a cave like this. Ah well. Life happens, I guess.
It feels so strange to be writing you a letter like this again, like we're just on holidays and nothing ever happened. Of course, I'm not in the usual place. Hence the cave. I can't tell you exactly where I am, though the bird should be a clue. It knows where I am, so you can send your letter back with it.
If you write me back, that is.
Moony, I know things are different, and it feels so strange to be writing to you, you wouldn't even believe it, but I've really missed you, more than anything else. I really want to talk to you again, even if there's a load of shit from the past to wade through. Please writing me back. Please.
I miss you.
x Padders
Moony
It's been about five minutes since I sent the other letter, and I realised right away just how prattish it sounded. My only excuse is that I'm still adjusting to everything. I know things are different, and I know I haven't exactly done a lot to earn your trust recently, but please give me a chance anyway. I know, I take advantage of your sweet nature, but if you write me back I promise never to ask a single thing of you again.
Sorry.
I miss you.
x Padders
Dear Padders
You haven't changed a bit, have you? Well, that was certainly a lie, but you're definitely still you. And of course I recognise your handwriting, how could I forget it after all those years forging your homework?
"Padders" - really not the most innocuous pseudonym you could have chosen though. People know what your nickname was in school. What about Snuffles, I don't think anybody but me ever called you that. Except for that time Prongs tried, and you hit him.
Don't worry about the letter, I get it. I know we've got a lot of important things to discuss eventually, but I did miss your sense of humour.
Indeed, it has been thirteen years. Hard to believe. Thirteen years seems like forever, but it feels like I was just talking to you yesterday. You have no idea how much I missed you, Snuffles. I even missed you waking me up by slobbering all over my face, Merlin help me.
I'm not Mr. Big Shot Professor Lupin anymore, obviously. I resigned after all that, I've learned my lesson about running around at Hogwarts. A lesson I probably should have learned a long time, but didn't. Better late than never, I suppose.
It's hard to explain everything that's happened in the last thirteen years in the space of a letter. I finally came out to my parents, then Voldemort killed them. I lived in their house when I lost the apartment, then in a cardboard box when I lost their house, then in the woods when the cardboard box melted, then Dumbledore found out I was living in the woods and bought me a cottage. It's gotten a bit run down over the years, I can never hold down any sort of decent job long enough to get it done up. Probably still a cut above your cave though. I'd offer you a bed here, but I've been searched by aurors three times because they know we're friends. Plus my only spare room is rather torn to shreds, and you'd have to sleep in manacles, since they're the only kind of spare bed I have.
Well, that's pretty much my last thirteen years in a nutshell. I'd ask about yours, but I imagine it was rather one-note. Wake up, be tortured, go back to sleep, repeat. Am I close?
So, what's your cave like? If I can't afford to pay the bills would there be room for me to drag a cardboard box in there? They're a lot more comfortable than you'd expect, once you get used to it.
Thank you for writing. I've missed you so much.
- Moony
Moony
I had completely forgotten about Snuffles... that's brilliant! Remember when we tried to explain what it meant to Prongs, and he almost spewed his bloody ring out? Good times, Moony my lad. Good times.
I've missed you too. Every day I hoped you'd come visit me, until the Dementors took the thought from me, and then all I remembered was that you hated me, and I'd probably never see you again. But I did remember that I wanted to see you, that I wanted you around me, and I couldn't have you. Azkaban is a crazy place. Everything good there rots and turns horrible.
You lived in a box? Bloody hell, Moony. One of the brightest and most hard-working students ever to come through Hogwarts, and you lived in a cardboard box. I'd say I wish I'd known so I could help, but really I couldn't have. You should have just taken money out of my bank account, it's not like I was using it for anything. Shit, I should have thought of this, I knew it was hard for you to get jobs, I should have just given you all my money before they got me. I'm such an arse.
Haha, so much for silly goofy Snuffles. My head's really not together, sometimes it's like I'm me again, and everything's fine, and then I remember how it felt in there, and all the hope just goes out of me in this big rush. It's... just really disorienting. I don't even have anyone or anything to keep me stable, other than writing to you and Harry, and when I talk to him it has to be about how everything is fine and dandy, of course. I think he thinks I'm staying in some tropical resort.
If you can't pay your bills, you are more than welcome to come share my cave. You can teach me how to get comfy on cardboard, and I'll cook you up a really nice rat stew. It'll be like the old days, except we'll both be homeless and I'll be completely bonkers.
Anyway. I'm going to wrap this up before it becomes even more drivelling and depressing.
I miss you.
x Snuffles
Dear Snuffles
Poor Prongs. He was so nice about it, but I really don't think he was ever really comfortable with us being together. That boy had clearly never hung out with a pair of poofters in his life.
Oh Snuffles. I'm so sorry. You have no idea just how awful I feel about all that. After all that stuff between the three of us in Hogwarts, when you were carted off I guess I just accepted it. I don't know why on earth I did, but I blamed you along with everyone else. I wish I had at least gone to see you, given you the chance I should have. I have so many regrets around you, I don't even know where to begin.
I did indeed live in a box. It wasn't so bad though, Snuffles, compared with where you were living. I considered seeing if I could be given access to your account, since you weren't using it, and we were pretty much just using it as 'our' money when we were in the apartment. It wouldn't have seemed right, though. And I'm not doing too badly for money at the moment. I have a sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore grossly overpaid me for that teaching work, but I'm incredibly grateful to him for it. Not having to worry about buying food week to week is strange and wonderful. I even splurged on a new bookshelf, I was getting rather tired of weaving my way through stacks of books to get to the kitchen. Where, of course, I get myself some tea and chocolate and immediately retreat to my fortress of books. Congratulations, Snuffles, I have become exactly what you predicted I would be in Hogwarts, except poorer and lonelier. Somehow, piles of reading material are still no substitute for arsing around with charming dunces. I'll never understand it.
Poor, dear Snuffles. I wish I could just give you a big 'wolf-hug' and make everything better. I can't even imagine the hell you've been through. You have no idea how much I wish I could go back and save you. If writing to me is keeping you stable, feel free to send me constant, never-ending streams of letters, 24 hours a day, and I promise to reply to every single one. Whatever you need, I'll do.
That sounds absolutely lovely. I may have to take a little holiday to your cave anyhow - I'll bring my best recipes for Boiled Squirrel and Pidgeon Pie. We'll make a banquet of it. Truly, we will live as homeless kings. (Come now, Snuffles. You were always completely bonkers.)
I never even realised how much I missed you until we started writing these letters. Is it depressing that I'm seriously considering that visit?
x Moony
Moony
Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony
I'm finding it hard even to write this. You are still exactly the gorgeous boy who stole my heart so many years ago. Every word of that letter was so completely and totally you in every way.
I know there's a lot to talk about, and letters are not the best medium for it, but... fuck it, I still love you, Moony. I didn't think I even remembered how love felt, but I do love you. I never stopped, even for a second. I don't know why we started having those stupid rows, but I know they weren't important. Nothing else was ever important, I love you, with everything I am.
I don't even know what else to say. I can feel my heart hitting my ribs. I've been pacing my cave for about ten minutes trying to calm down and think of other, less waffley things to say, but I just... I can't think about anything else right now. I love you.
Please don't hate me for it.
I'll do whatever you want, give you anything you want, even if it's never seeing me again. (Though if you ask for a jumbo jet, or the skin of an endangered white rhino I might be a little hard-pressed.)
Please, please at least write me back.
I need you.
Snuffles
Dear, darling, lovely, wonderful Snuffles
You're finding it hard to write? Did you even consider how difficult it would be to respond to such a heartfelt, lovely, touching letter? You always were inconsiderate like that.
I'm teasing, of course. Please don't take that seriously. I would throw this out and start again, but this is my thirtieth try at this letter, and I promised myself I'd actually finish this one. Even if I now feel horrible about that first line.
But, I am missing the point. Or tiptoeing around it. Because I don't know what to say.
I certainly know that heart-battering-the-ribcage feeling though.
Snuffles, I never, ever stopped loving you. I don't know why we were rowing either. I know that at the time it mattered HUGELY, and we were both absolutely certain that we were in the right and the other one was in the wrong, but the what-abouts and whys are all long since gone.
I tried so hard for so long to convince myself that I didn't love you, in as many stupid ways as I could think of, but you always have been, and always will be, the love of my life. I think I really accepted that the moment I saw you in the Shrieking Shack. Even if you had been every bit as evil as you were made out to be, I would have taken your side and gone with you anywhere. I'm just... done pretending I can live without you. I don't do anything, I don't know anyone, I just sit here and drink rather a lot and pretend I'm a character in a book so I don't have to think about my real life.
I would never, ever, ever want to never see you again. If I thought I would never see you again, I would probably throw myself off a cliff and be done with it. If there is one thing I have learned it is that there is no point fannying about being lonely. It is so completely horrible that if there is a single thing you can do about it, it must be done at once.
I am, however, fannying about a lot in this letter. I'm still no bloody good at this romantic stuff. You send me a heartfelt note so sweet it makes me cry, and I reply with a drivelling awkward 'um er yes I love you rather an awful lot too ahaha um er ha' kind of mess. I'm so sorry.
Just... take what you said in your letter and flip it, you're so much better at all this than I am.
I love you, Snuffles.
Forgive me as you have done so many times before, for my wittering, pathetic attempt at a romantic letter.
All my love,
Moony
Dear Moony
Ruddy hell, this letter writing thing is getting harder and harder. Soon enough we'll just be sending each other blank pieces of paper. What a brilliant romance, eh?
Wittering? Slightly. Fannying about? Just a little bit. Pathetic? Certainly not. You have certainly improved at love letter writing over the years. Plus, I've missed watching you awkwardly splutter out romantic sayings, even if I had to imagine it this time.
No, but really your letter reached me in the nick of time. Since I sent mine off I've been alternating between bouncing off the walls because I remember what love feels like, and trying to keep myself from jumping off a cliff because I remember how much love can hurt, and all the reasons you shouldn't feel the same way anymore. I was about ready to pack it in when the bird came back, with your beautiful, beautiful heartwarming letter.
I don't even know what to say, I'm just sitting here and reading it over and over. You have this strange ability to... oh... you know how people talk about butterflies in their stomach? Well, you give me butterflies in my heart. I don't know how, but you do it. You strange, marvellous, brilliant man.
I really meant it when I said I didn't know what to say. It's kind of weird that you drink now. Don't know if I should be proud or ashamed, after all those years I spent trying to convince you to get smashed with Prongs and I.
Who's fannying around now, eh?
I geniuinely have nothing else to say. I just... I love you. I miss you. It has been far, far too long since I kissed you.
Love, forever
Snuffles
Darling Snuffles
You poor, wonderful man. I am starting to seriously consider this cave-visit plan, so I can look after you for a while. I know you, and you never, ever let anyone know how bad you're feeling. The fact that any of it has leaked into these letters is enough to make me really worry about you. Nobody should have to be alone after what you've been through. Not to mention that I miss you, and my arms feel empty without you in them and all that rubbish.
Please, Snuffles, take care of yourself. That's all I want you to do. I can't imagine what you're going through. I'm honestly tempted to throw a bunch of clothes in a trunk and follow this stupid bird back to you right now. Remind me again why that's a bad idea?
I do drink now, Snuffles. Congratulations, you did corrupt poor, innocent Moony in the end. My mum was right when she called you a bad influence. Demon child.
Oh, bloody hell. It's been so long since I kissed anybody that I've almost certainly forgotten how to do it. I'd practically forgotten it existed.
All my love and sloppy, horrible kisses
Moony
Dear Moony
Oh, don't worry about me. I just don't really have much to do but complain these days. Complain and eat rats and sit in a cave laughing to myself like a madman. Life's pretty exciting.
Indeed I was a demon child. 17 year old me is wiping a tear of pride from his eye at the sight of grown-up Moony hitting the bottle. Welcome to the dark side...
I guarantee it's been longer since I kissed anybody, Moony love. Prison romances are few and far-between. Not to mention that shaving hasn't been high on the agenda recently. I feel like Hagrid.
Love
Snuffles
Moony
Taking you up on that offer to write constantly.
I'm really scared.
You're right, I don't let people know when I feel like crap, but it's getting harder and harder to cope here by myself. If Azkaban hasn't driven me mad (HA) this cave slowly is. I'm talking to myself, I'm dizzy, I hardly know what's happening. Coherant letters to you and Harry are getting harder and harder.
You can tell I'm out of sorts, I've never used the word coherant before. Must have picked it up off you. Swot.
Oh Merlin I can't even stay on the same thought long enough to tell you that I'm finding it hard to stay on the same thought for long. Funny.
I just... don't know what to do with myself. I keep looking out the mouth of the cave over the cliff, and it's scaring me.
Say something comforting.
I love you, Moony.
Oh Snuffles
I'm packing a bag right now, I fully intend to follow this fruity bird back to wherever you're staying. This letter is more a formality than anything, to say 'hello, here's a letter, see you in a minute'
When I arrive I fully intend to shower you with love and care and REAL FOOD and as many sloppy, uncoordinated kisses and bumbling professions of love as you can handle.
Moony
Sirius had scarcely finished reading the hastily scribbled letter a third time in shock when a somewhat unsteady broom carrying the tired form of Remus Lupin rushed into the cave, a large cloud of dust blowing from the ceiling as he struggled to bring the broom to a halt, more tumbling from it than dismounting.
The two pairs of eyes met, worn amber and wild grey, and neither could think of a single thing to say or do, frozen in time staring at one another.
"Remus." Sirius' voice was cracked and rough from lack of use, reddened eyes staring in total disbelief.
"Sirius." The warmth in Remus' voice seemed to blossom outwards into a smile which enveloped his whole face, abandoning broom and case to rush into Sirius' waiting arms.
"Merlin, I've missed you." Remus breathed, then coughed slightly. "You smell absolutely atrocious."
"I would've cleaned up if I'd had some warning." Sirius said gruffly, warm tears slipping almost unnoticed down his face.
Remus pulled back from the hug, putting his hands on either side of Sirius' face and stared deeply into his gleaming eyes. After a moment's contemplation, he smiled warmly and ran a thumb over Sirius' hairy cheek.
"I love you." He said, and it was the truest and most assured thing he had ever said in his life.
"I love you too." Sirius croaked, and their lips met in a messy, passionate, long-awaited kiss.
